“Yes,” I bite back and start to spell it out for her. “Yesterday. At Trevor Harper’s house.”
“Um…” She looks to the side and back at me tilting her head. “This isn’t really a good time. Can I call you, maybe make an appointment? Tony can come with me. I’m really busy right now, I have a little bit of a situation I’m trying to deal with.”
I’m not a patient person by nature, but shit, this woman is seriously trying me and the damn dog at my feet still wants my attention. I cross my arms and keep on. “You find yourself in a lot of situations?”
Affronted, she pulls her frame up to full height and throws her attitude at me this time. “No, for your information, I do not find myself in a lot of situations. If you’re dead set on interrogating me on my front porch, one of my hot water heaters burst and I have water all over my basement. Water tends to be destructive, quickly I might add, and I’m trying to move things around as best I can before someone gets here to help. So, although my latest situation doesn’t deal with law enforcement, big men dressed in black with federal search warrants, it does require all of my attention, now. If you’ll please give me your card, I’ll call you and we’ll set up a time.”
I stand here a beat, my arms crossed watching her throw her attitude again. Glaring down at her, I find myself growling my words. “You should look out your window before opening your door. You never know who or what kind of threat it could be.”
“Excuse me?” she responds, confused by my demand.
Now, shocking myself, I answer with a question as I push through the door. “How do I get to the basement?” With the dog following me, Gabrielle is forced to move as I walk into her house. Still standing with the door in her hand staring at me, I repeat, “Gabrielle, basement?”
“What are you doing?” Her voice climbs higher.
“I’m helping you move your stuff.”
“You’re not helping me move my stuff.”
“Yes I am.”
“No!” she yells. “I’ve made some calls and am expecting help soon. You can leave.”
“Gabrielle, no offense, but you’re a slip of a woman. I doubt you can move shit by yourself. I’m here, I’m helping.” Getting tired of the banter and still wondering why in the hell I’ve just offered to help move furniture, I search for the way to the basement. Looking to the right, I see stairs and make my way around Gabrielle to the staircase. She’s still hasn’t moved. For some crazy-ass reason, I can’t help but grin and wink at her when I ask, “You comin’? I hear water has a way of being destructive, quick-like.”
She finally snaps out of her trance and shuts the door as I head down the stairs, the dog still on my heels. I hear her following me so I yell back up at her, “Lock the door, Gabrielle.” Her advancing stops before I hear her stomping back up the stairs.
When she finally makes it back down to the soggy basement, I look over at her when her quiet voice comes at me. “Gabby.”
Confused, I ask, “What?”
“Gabby, everyone calls me Gabby,” she responds softly.
I take her in, standing there on soggy carpet in her huge ass basement. “Okay, Gabby. Where in the hell do we start?”
Jude has been in my house for the past two hours, making me nervous as hell and I’m so tired from not sleeping well last night after my crazy day yesterday. The combination of the two is making me a wreck.
When I came down this morning to get some work done in my basement office where I run my business and stepped off the bottom stair into water, I thought I was going to throw up. I’m really not a good homeowner. I keep telling everyone—myself included—that I’m going to put the house on the market once I get it updated so I can get top dollar. My entire family simply gives me that look they’ve perfected over the last few years, a combination of love and sorrow, saying something like, “Whatever you want, Gabby. No hurry, it’s not going anywhere.”
I’m figuring this house stuff out a little at a time. It took me a whole summer to learn how to take care of the yard with the fertilizing, winterizing, how much to water, and that’s with paying the neighbor boy to mow. Maintaining furnaces, air conditioners, filters, fixing small things when they break or go screwy has been a learning process to say the least.
And now I can add hot water heaters to my list. Did I fail my hot water heater in some way or did it just kick the bucket on its own, deciding to flood my basement? I don’t know, but my head is starting to hurt from the lack of caffeine, as my latest debacle started when I was brewing the first pot of coffee.
Jude showing on my door step this morning was a miracle and a tragedy. Seeing him outside my front door made my heart skip a beat and I was at a loss for words. He looked better than I remembered, in a faded red t-shirt and jeans that fit too well. His legs, thick and defined in denim, made him appear even bigger and more powerful than yesterday in his police outfit. I still don’t think he’s shaved and his hair is yet again messy on top, which makes me wonder if this is his normal do instead of helmet hair. Either way, the messy look works for him in a big way and I find myself wanting to run my fingers through it.
But as much as I’ve enjoyed getting glimpses of Jude lifting, bending and stretching in my basement while moving my furniture around, I cannot believe he is here because I look like hell. I went to bed with my hair wet which is always a scary sight the next morning. I have no makeup on, not to mention the dark circles under my eyes from tossing and turning all night.
Tony got here about thirty minutes after Jude. I called Tony before Jude showed, he was at the gym playing basketball. Two days in a row I’ve screwed up Tony’s day, needing him to come to my rescue. Shortly after Tony arrived, the first restoration company that popped up on Google showed with fans and other whatnots to start drying out my basement. I’ve hardly said a word to Jude since Tony got here.
Now the two of them are standing amongst the hellacious mess that is my basement, heads tipped and talking quietly with the restoration crew working around them. Not having the energy to think about what they’re talking about, I go to my office with Mia faithfully at my feet. My office was thankfully spared from water since the mechanical room was on the other side of the basement and the water hadn’t made its way in here yet. As Mia turns circles in her bed, I wake up my computer to print off the invoice I came down for originally this morning and need to get in the mail today.
I look around thinking I’m grateful I’ve put off renovating the basement and pray my insurance comes through in a big way. Maybe I can upgrade my carpet, repaint, and with a bit of luck I’ll be able to replace all the baseboards, as well. My next project was going to be the guest rooms upstairs, but apparently my hot water heater had other plans for my makeover schedule. Hearing Jude and Tony’s voices getting louder, I turn to see them walking through the door to my office.
“I’m outta here, Gabba,” Tony says.
“Sorry I ruined your day again, basketball, and well…everything.”
“I know, just another day in the life of Gabby Carpino’s cousin.” He teases. “Just so you know, I plan on sleeping in tomorrow so if you could ward off any more catastrophes until the afternoon, that’d be good.”